Four Seasons Poetry Set
by Our Broken Quill
Summary: Watching the fallen snow, the blooming blossoms, the summer rain, the browning leaves, everything, everything means everything to everyone. Life, love, death, silence... Spring: Hisao wonders of the futility of life. Summer: Lilly dreams on in the embrace of nature. Fall: Misha joins her unrequited love in sleep. Winter: Hanako trudges through her personal snow.
1. Spring: Hisao

**The Four Seasons: Petrarchan Sonnet**

 **Spring: Of Renewal**

This heart of mine races, o silent one;

the twilight glitter shines light in the sky

as I recount my dreams, soon real, and my

hands rest soft as soon I trail with the sun.

The one, though, wary as if to poke fun

by shying away from the spring, a lie

or truth I know, this thought to rectify

if all to do has or hasn't been done.

Reassured by your familiar face

though memory serves to shake my frail bones,

I patiently await my love's reply.

Mocking laughter serves to make my heart race,

That man and my wife murmur in sad tones,

Your answer in my disappointed sigh.


	2. Summer: Lilly

**The Four Seasons: Iambic Tetrameter**

 **Summer: The Starry Night**

I hear the breeze sing with the stars  
weaving a patchwork melody  
of grounded things learning to fly.  
Leave it behind; all this, the wind  
promises, a secret whisper  
of a lover; her boyfriend sighs.

A romantic chandelier;  
Lit above to set this mood of  
serenity, with cheeks alight;  
I am spectator to this dance,  
voyeuristic misintentions,  
head bent to hear this lullaby.

My sight, lost, but never found; a  
dream, never sought to see again;  
Wind's gentle whispers, playfully  
teasing, coaxing me to watch blind.  
A hero always peeks, they say,  
I fancy myself a lady.

I do not watch; I can not, but  
here upon this curve I may perch.  
Intrusive, though in moments of  
weakness I welcome myself, as  
a bird appointed to oversee  
exquisite sights that it should not.

Yet here I am, curled around  
the door as does a blushing bride.  
As such do all chaste flowers do,  
blooming by this morning dew, as  
I judge this quiet summer night,  
and here I wish that I had sight.


	3. Fall: Misha

_**The Four Seasons: Palindrome Poem**_

 _ **Autumn: Of Closing**_

Round and round we spin in fall

Our dreams we all will miss.

Careless dance, your laugh, I saw

Too much I've longed for this.

In the dying of the light,

With the tolling of the bells,

You may have lost your sight

Your face will give no tells

But as I hold your hand to me

Out from your lips comes naught a peep,

As your life will cease to be

I would dare join you in sleep.

As your life will cease to be

Out from your lips comes naught a peep,

But as I hold your hand to me

Your face will give no tells

You may have lost your sight.

With the tolling of the bells,

In the dying of the light,

Too much I've longed for this.

Careless dance, your laugh, I saw

Our dreams we all will miss.

Round and round we spin in fall


	4. Winter: Hanako

The Four Seasons: Iambic Pentameter

Winter: The South Wind

How would I dare seek to speak this fragile  
silence, seductive in its promises?  
The night does not stir, and I with it show,  
the south wind sighs sweetest of all the four.

As one, we take to the shadows; though one  
of us the shadows leave. I wish too soon  
that I could flee with the sun, but when she  
has chosen, I am left to hold my peace.

The day is jumpy; something we share two;  
our every breath compelled by the night. If  
fire is this bright, I would burn with it.  
The flames burst alight, to break this silence.

And between us three, first I turn away,  
my careful silence shielding me from two,  
though with that look from you my king will fall;  
It always does. I like to lose, for you.

Sometimes I win, this peace between us too.  
Though counting becomes meaningless with you.  
I watch your subtle hands; you play this game  
so smooth, my stance disarmed with cheerful ease.

I think I would dare to speak this spoken  
silence, silent in its lies. The night does  
not stir, since I with it show, that the south  
wind is the bitterest of all the four.


End file.
